"Too
whit- too whoo, a merry note while greasy Joan doth keel the pot”
The
sight of Harry Clifford brazenly jigging on the lockers after lights out in the
3rd line open dorms; the extraordinary pace (and hairy chest) of Johnny Hickie at age 13; all of us meekly queuing for our weekly shower at the pool, butt
naked, clutching a facecloth to shield our modesty in Rudiments (Tony, more
generously proportioned,required a hand-towel); Bertie Brereton, the legend
that he was, writing “work hard and be happy” on the blackboard; Brian Lennon
(a.k.a. Ronnie Drew), through gritted teeth and with justification, telling me
after yet another transgression,”’you're the worst bastard I have ever met, and
MacManus, I’ve met a lot of bastards…”;
The 8pm mad dash for the old gym to
play indoor soccer after study in Grammar - sweaty, competitive, exhilarating - 10
a side, if you were too late, tough luck!
That crazy OPEC oil embargo in 1973, with no electricity and the ensuing mayhem at evening study; the juddering, shaking, pock marked hands of the Infirmary doctor as he administered cholera injections; Wally was called “Gaston” in Eimer McDermott’s French class; Who did you prefer-Miss Ruane or Mademoiselle Bachelerie?(verdict-they were both gorgeous); Shadow-boxing with Oggie-Doggie (my uncle Tom) in the lunch queue; Ned McQuaid’s lavish moustache age 15; the fleeting, intense obsession we had with bridge in Syntax; Kevin O’Connor’s rise and rise as an incredible tennis player of national stature, yet so humble and understated; Mickey O’Dowd’s kind, twinkling eyes and infinite patience; ELO, Supertramp,10cc, Pink Floyd, Genesis, the Eagles, Bob Marley, Earth Wind and Fire, Billy Joel.
That crazy OPEC oil embargo in 1973, with no electricity and the ensuing mayhem at evening study; the juddering, shaking, pock marked hands of the Infirmary doctor as he administered cholera injections; Wally was called “Gaston” in Eimer McDermott’s French class; Who did you prefer-Miss Ruane or Mademoiselle Bachelerie?(verdict-they were both gorgeous); Shadow-boxing with Oggie-Doggie (my uncle Tom) in the lunch queue; Ned McQuaid’s lavish moustache age 15; the fleeting, intense obsession we had with bridge in Syntax; Kevin O’Connor’s rise and rise as an incredible tennis player of national stature, yet so humble and understated; Mickey O’Dowd’s kind, twinkling eyes and infinite patience; ELO, Supertramp,10cc, Pink Floyd, Genesis, the Eagles, Bob Marley, Earth Wind and Fire, Billy Joel.
Marty Coyne crooning along with Bill Withers after the
Mt Anville social ”lovely day, lovely day, just a lovely day…” (yes, he
was in love again), and he wasn’t the only one. Sadly, I was dumped a few weeks
later);
The mountains of mouth-watering fresh bread and spuds we ate. Bob Kryger’s arrival, with his broad NY accent and American warmth; Tigger concussed, unconscious and hospitalised v Blackrock, a chilling, visceral memory. The hot girl working in the ref when we were 17 (come on, you remember her), Martin Moloney’s vast intellect on all matters historical; Jono, Paulie and Jack’s band performance that brought the house down and blew us all away; trying, and failing (after a day), to maintain silence on the Manresa Mouse retreat; Barry’s gentle giant/monster hulk off pitch-on pitch persona; Gucko absolutely hammering full tilt into the unpadded upright on the senior pitch one wet, cold training session-and getting up unscathed and running on ( they breed them tough in Ballinrobe);
The mountains of mouth-watering fresh bread and spuds we ate. Bob Kryger’s arrival, with his broad NY accent and American warmth; Tigger concussed, unconscious and hospitalised v Blackrock, a chilling, visceral memory. The hot girl working in the ref when we were 17 (come on, you remember her), Martin Moloney’s vast intellect on all matters historical; Jono, Paulie and Jack’s band performance that brought the house down and blew us all away; trying, and failing (after a day), to maintain silence on the Manresa Mouse retreat; Barry’s gentle giant/monster hulk off pitch-on pitch persona; Gucko absolutely hammering full tilt into the unpadded upright on the senior pitch one wet, cold training session-and getting up unscathed and running on ( they breed them tough in Ballinrobe);
The classic Howick-Shanahan comedic duo in
Coriolanus; Doggo Bolger being awarded the “Alo” trophy in Rhetoric to
universal approval; Greg’s immense strength of character as he sealed
victory with that 60m kick at Lansdowne Road. Finally, the seismic shift
that took place in CWC ethos with the arrival of Philip Fogarty and the unique
force of nature that is Mick Sheil.
Flute-flute-pipe,
flute-flute-pipe, zith-zith-zither, zith-zith-zither…Nebuchadnezzar went
mad, mad-mad, fell down in a rage, mad rage…
written by Mike Mac Manus #MauraCrannyRIP
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